


Bedtime Stories

by Arkiem



Series: Pampered [2]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Iron Man - All Media Types, Pre-Age of Ultron - Fandom, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Age Play, Babied Tony, Cuddles, Daddies everywhere, Diapers, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Infantilism, Kind of plotless again, Non-Sexual Age Play, Sharing a Bed, Wetting, diaper changes, kind of, non-sexual infantilism, stuffed animals, throwing up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-19
Updated: 2016-10-14
Packaged: 2018-08-15 22:41:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8075668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arkiem/pseuds/Arkiem
Summary: Tony is fully recovered now; he just wears diapers at night. The team keeps taking care of him, diaper changes included, especially since Tony ends up sharing the bed with them for different reasons.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I had already started this chapter some weeks ago. Today I found it and, since I was kind of bored, I finished it. 
> 
> As I said in the first part of the series, I was going to continue this. It's going to be kind of plotless again, just scenes of the team taking care of Tony, diaper changes and cuddles and things like that. This is not completely age play, but it eventually will be (maybe until the next story). Also, I'm kind of keeping it Gen now.
> 
> Anyway, hopefully you'll enjoy this! And as I usually ask you, if you see any mistakes, please let me know :).

Tony sat down all of a sudden, stifling a cry that was making its way through his throat. Drops of sweat fell freely on his face as he stared at the wall in front of him, not really looking at it. The images of the nightmare still too fresh on his mind. 

A thunder made him jump and leave his stupor, and before his mind could register how exactly it happened, Tony found himself walking out of his room, towards the elevator. Before he stepped inside, a lighting lighted up all the room for a millisecond and a thunder made all the Tower resound. Tony jumped again. If there was a chance he was considering the idea of turning around and going back to his bed, feeling too stupid for being doing what he was doing, it was totally gone now.

This was something Tony has never done. In spite of that, as soon as the doors of the elevator closed, it started to move without having to articulate where to go. JARVIS knew him perfectly well, so, when the elevator stopped in Steve’s floor, Tony wasn’t surprised at all. 

Most of the time, after a nightmare, Tony just stayed in bed, trying to calm down while he assured himself it had been just a dream. He could never go back to sleep, though. Instead, he ended up going down to his workshop and let a project distract his mind. But since his awfully slow recovery, his workshop had become a place which was out of limits during the night. Not that Tony cared about it in that moment, since going all the way down there didn’t seem so appealing for some reason. 

So, staying in bed and going to his workshop not being options, the only thing that could help Tony to fall sleep again would be having another person there with him. Perhaps going to one of his teammates’ room in the middle of the night would be kind of weird, but since one of them stayed with him lately until he fell asleep, petting him or hugging him, Tony figured it wouldn’t be that awkward anymore. 

Quickly, Tony got off the elevator and walked towards Steve’s room, slowing down when he reached the door and opened it. Tony stood in the entrance for some minutes, deciding if he should really go inside and bother Steve, who seemed to be sleeping peacefully, totally undisturbed by the storm. Guilt took over Tony when he thought about waking him up. Maybe he could just climb the bed carefully and stay there, he didn't need him awake, not really, just knowing that Steve was there would be enough.

Another thunder resonated when Tony was walking as quietly as possible to the bed. Before he could stop himself, Tony made a beeline fast to the bed, jumping over the mattress but landing on Steve, surrounding his neck with his arms very tightly. Yes, Tony definitely felt a bit stupid, but he couldn’t care less right then.

"Whatgoingon?!" Steve exclaimed drowsily as soon as he opened his eyes, trying to sit down to see what was happening, but the body on him prevented him from doing so, "Tony?" he asked, brushing a wisp of hair off Tony’s forehead to have a better look of his face, “Hey buddy, what happened? Is there something wrong? Why are you here?” he questioned.

Yet, another thunder could be heard, and the way that Tony trembled right after it answered Steve’s questions. 

“Oh,” Steve chuckled affectionately, “Do you want to spend the rest of the night here?” he offered as he placed his arm around him. Tony just nodded, snuggling closer. “OK, but first, you need a change, you're wet” he informed when Tony felt one of his hands on his butt. 

“But I’m wearing a diaper,” Tony notified shyly, his speech sounding a bit like babbles since his mouth was pressed against Steve’s chest. His incontinence problem was almost gone by now. During the day, he didn’t need to wear diapers anymore, but at night he had failed to control his bladder correctly, so he had been encouraged to keep wearing them for bed at least for a while. 

“I can tell that buddy, but it must’ve leaked, because your pants are wet.”

Steve pushed Tony away gently, rolling him over until Tony ended up lying on the mattress instead of him. Tony suppressed a whine caused by being left alone. He saw Steve leaving the room, and when he saw a lighting again, his hand reached for a pillow and wrapped both arms around it, pressing his face into it. The pillow smelled liked Steve, and that comforted him somehow. 

Not long after, Tony heard some footsteps going closer to him, making him feel relieved. A quiet squeal escaped from his mouth when Steve picked him up all of a sudden and set him down on what surely was a changing pad. Without losing time, Steve proceeded to drag his pajama pants down and pull off the soaked diaper, making Tony flinch a little when a wipe was pressed gently against his diaper area to clean him off. Soon, Steve was lifting his hips and sliding a diaper under his butt, dusting what smelled like baby powder between his thighs before pulling the front of the diaper up and smoothing the straps into place.

Tony squirmed a little, the diaper felt a bit thicker than usual. He looked down and frowned when he saw he was wearing one of those childish blue diapers Clint had bought. 

“Sorry, you weren’t using as many diapers as before, so I didn’t realize we had run out of them and the only ones left are the ones Clint bought,” Steve explained when Tony stared at him, silently questioning him. 

Tony sighed, deciding not to complain about it. Wearing those diapers was the best option when the alternative would be waking up on a wet bed which he was about to share with Steve. He turned around and crawled to the middle of the bed while Steve set all the supplies aside. He was already drifting away when he felt the mattress sank next to him. 

Would Steve feel uncomfortable if Tony got closer to him? Tony slowly moved closer to Steve, afraid the latter would push him away, but to his astonishment, Steve did something that was quite the opposite: he pulled him closer, lifting him and placing him on him. Tony raised his head, shocked, looking directly at Steve’s face, who just smiled and pull him into a hug when he felt Tony trying to move away. 

“Sleep tight,” Steve wished as he placed a hand on the back of Tony’s head and pushed it down until it was resting on his chest. 

Tony lied there very stiffly for several minutes - he was using Captain America as a mattress! - only beginning to relax when Steve started to pat his padded bottom rhythmically. 

Yes, this was more comfort than Tony was expecting to get, but it was exactly what he needed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Tumblr](http://arkiem65.tumblr.com/)


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all your comments in the last chapter! They're very appreciated.
> 
> I guess I got a bit frustrated writing this chapter, sometimes it's kind of hard to write in a different language. I would've liked to make it longer, describe scenes better, but I got stuck with a lot of expressions, so I decided just to leave it like that. I hope I improve in the future (well, actually I started writing with the intention of improving my writing skills).
> 
> So, anyway. Hope you like the result. Any mistake you see, please let me know.

"Yes!" Tony heard Clint exclaim with excitement. He took his eyes off his side of the screen for a couple of seconds to look at Clint’s. He pressed the button harder as if that would somehow help Mario to go faster. "Here it goes!" Clint announced right before he threw one of the stupid red shells that Tony was starting to hate. 

"No, no, no, no, no!" Tony repeated as he tried to dodge it, moving his arms to the same direction he wanted Mario to move. "Yes!" He shouted when Mario successfully avoid the shell, but he didn't even have time to grin before Toad threw the other two red shells he had, taking Mario out of the road this time. "The fuck!!" He cursed when he saw Toad passing him. Tony loathed the annoying mocking way Toad laughed whenever he left someone behind. Why had he gotten rid of the damn bananas? They would’ve stopped the shells.

"Yeah baby! That’s how's done!" Clint said the moment he saw Toad crossing the finish line, doing his annoying victory dance which consisted just in moving his arms and shoulders in a circular way with a huge grin on his face. Tony was starting to hate that too. 

"Stop doing that!" No, Tony definitely didn’t whine. Except he totally did. 

Clint stopped, raising an eyebrow, "stop doing what?" 

"You always do the same! You stay behind me all the time, and when we're about to finish the third round, when you see me getting closer to the finishing line, you throw one of those fucking shells!" Tony accused, "it's not fair!"

"Hey! That's a legitimate strategy. It's not like I'm cheating," Clint defended himself. 

"Yes, you are!" No, still not whining. 

"No, that's not cheating!" Clint assured, indicating the video game he wanted another round to start. "C'mon, let's play one more time, I promise I won't use that technique this time," he promised, going through all the customization options. That also bothered Tony, why the hell did Clint checked all the options if he always ended up choosing the same car, the same wheels, the same paraglide and the same irritating Toad?

Tony put the controller aside, crossing his arms over his chest, "no, I don't want to play anymore," he said. Yes, big news, he didn't like to lose. Not in the slightest. He liked getting his way, and if for some reason circumstances prevented him from doing so, he owned an awesome brain which help him to figure things out and tip the scales in his favor. Having a lot of money and being Iron man also helped.

"What? Why not?" Clint asked, looking at him suspiciously. 

"Just because." 

"Holy shit, you don’t like losing!" Clint stated, a surprised expression on his face. Tony realized this was the first time they played just the two of them. Up until now they’d played with Thor and Steve, and Tony could assure Clint and he focus more on making fun and frustrating the other two players – who struggled with the controllers – than actually winning. 

"Shut it Barton!" Tony demanded, unfolding his arms and turning a bit until his legs were able to step on the floor.

"What are you doing?" Clint questioned, pressing the pause button and turning his head to see what Tony was doing. 

“I’m out of here,” Tony informed.

“Are you serious? You really got mad for losing?” 

There was no answer. Tony only bended down and reached for his shoes, putting them on quickly with the intention of leaving. Losing in a video game was no reason to get mad, he should have been grateful Clint decided to stay with him instead of going to train when he showed up in his room without warning an hour ago. Tony had been stressed, exhausted, cranky and fed up due to the armor improvements he had been working on all day, which turned out to be a bit more difficult and time consuming than he had expected. After failing at entertaining himself – he couldn’t even manage to take a nap – Tony ended up looking for someone to see if company could help him to relax. But losing worsened his mood. 

Tony knew he was being all irrational and childish. Not that he cared, he had the right to be moody if he wanted to, and he was more than willing to exercise that right. 

Clint had other plans, though. 

When Tony was about to stand up, he felt Clint sliding his arms under his armpits and he dragged him to the middle of the bed, pushing him firmly until his back was against the mattress. Before Tony could sit up, Clint clambered over him, preventing him from moving. 

“So, mister grumpy pants here got mad at me because I didn’t let him win in a video game?” Clint half asked half stated, frowning, but there was no seriousness in the way he said that, “That’s not fair, you know, if you’re moody, you shouldn't blame it on me.”

Not giving Tony a chance to say anything, Clint’s hands moved close to his armpits again, fingers brushing against them, making him squirmed at the weird sensation. Then the fingers moved to his sides, his ribs, his armpits again, and soon Tony found himself giggling uncontrollably, throwing his head back and forth, his entire body jolting underneath Clint, trying to roll over to avoid his fingers. 

“Stohohop!” Tony managed to say between giggles, when Clint stopped his attack to give him a chance to gasp for air, “Please, stop.” But he sounded way far from demanding. 

“Tell me you’re not mad at me,” Clint asked, his hands teasing his sides one more time, causing some more laughs. 

“I-ha I’m not!” Tony assured, placing his hands on Clint’s chest, pushing him, but his arms felt like jelly the moment Clint began to tickle him again. 

“You don’t sound that convincing.”

Clint pulled his t-shirt up, and bent to press his face against his belly, blowing a raspberry. Tony squeaked. Clint took that as an invitation, and kept blowing raspberries, making too loud fart noises on purpose. That caused Tony to giggle harder, and stopped him from gathering the strength needed to get rid of Clint’s hold, as he was quickly wearing himself out, already out of breath and squeaking out pleas. 

“Nohoho, no more!” Tony pleaded as he tried to feel his lungs with enough air. 

“What?! I can’t hear you!” Clint lied right before the blew the loudest raspberry ever. 

“Sir, the pizza arrived,” JARVIS announced, and Tony could have kissed him if it had been possible since that made Clint stop.

“OK, I’m gonna get the pizza, if I come back and you’re not here, or you continue sulking, we’re so finishing this,” Clint warned before climbing off the bed and rushing out of his room. 

It took Tony around ten minutes to settle. And two more minutes to realize his bad mood was completely gone. 

\- - - - -

If it were really possible for eyes to sparkle, Tony would have been sure his sparkled when he saw Clint crossed the door. Well, not Clint exactly, but the pizza box he was carrying on his arms and the bowl of pop corns over it, the cans of soda he was grasping with his hands, the chips and cookies packages he was holding with his teeth and the bags of candies he had under his armpits. 

Feeling excited for such a banal reason made Tony feel a bit stupid, but it had been a while since the last time he saw all that junk food together. He wasn’t exactly known for his healthy eating habits, but according to his team – who turned out to be huge mother hens – a proper recovery walked hand in hand with ingesting healthy food. Tony was lucky if he was allowed to eat a cheeseburger after begging for it just for one hour, and on the condition he got something like a salad or soup as a side dish. Cheeseburger with soup? That had to be illegal. 

Clint put everything on the bed – because he was Clint and food on the bed was totally right – and went to turn off the game console and fetch for the TV remote. Not being able to resist, Tony leaned on and reached for the box of pizza, opening it and taking some seconds to appreciate its scent. It smelled delicious. And surely, it tasted heavenly too. He was about to take a slice to verify it, when Clint pushed his hand away and closed the box. 

“Hey!” Tony complained. Wasn’t Clint going to let him eat anything? Had that been some kind of revenge? Did Clint take all that food and was planning on eating everything by himself and he was going to give Tony something like oatmeal or potage? That would be so mean! 

“No so fast grumpy pants. First go and wash up,” Clint demanded, pulling his arm to help him to stand up. 

“Really?” Since when Clint cared about hygiene?

“If you don’t hurry, I’m gonna start without you and you know I eat very fast,” Clint warned, and that made Tony run towards the bathroom. There was no way he was going to missed the opportunity of eating all that delicious food just for not wanting to wash his hands. Who knew when he was going to get another opportunity like that one. 

The rest of the evening went uneventfully. Clint and Tony settled on the bed in front of the TV and watched the first Star Wars movie – it was a classic that never got old – while they ate as many food as their stomachs were able to ingest. 

Tony didn’t know when, but he eventually dozed off. He remembered Clint shaking his shoulder to wake him up and ask him if he wanted to stay for the night, to which Tony answered with a nod. He remembered whining when Clint rolled him over and lift his hips to be able to take his pants and boxers off and replace them with a diaper. He remembered Clint asking him to get under the covers, though Tony was sure Clint did most of the work. And the last thing he remembered was been given something furry and extremely soft, which he just hugged without finding out what it was, feeling to lethargic to open his eyes.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your nice comments. 
> 
> I thought I wasn't going to update this week. Too much work and no inspiration. But I got stuck in traffic for more than an hour (it usually takes me like 15 min to go from one job to the other) and I had to spend my time doing something productive.
> 
> Anyway, as usual, spot any mistake, please let me know. :)

"Leave it to you to stuff yourself with all that junk food after eating nothing but healthy things for weeks,” Bruce scolded as he crouched down, placing an arm around Tony’s waist, so that he could help him to stand up. 

“Leave me alone,” Tony ordered, though his tone of voice was far from being a demand. As soon as Tony was on his feet, he leaned on Bruce, letting him support most of his weight. His legs felt like jelly after all the effort he had to make to send everything back through his throat. 

“Did it occur to you that that amount of food, at night, would upset your stomach?” Bruce asked, taking Tony’s arm and placing it around his neck for a better balance before heading outside the bathroom. 

“Stop,” Tony asked again, letting himself be leaded – well, actually, more like dragged.

“And Clint, what was he thinking when he got all that junk food?” Bruce went on as they reached the bed, manhandling Tony until he was sitting on it. 

“Quit it, he already apologized,” Tony reminded him while Bruce took off his shoes so he could climb into bed properly, which he did as soon as his feet were freed. 

“Anyway, he should’ve known better. You should’ve known better. How –”

“Bruceeee,” Tony whined, interrupting him. The lecture was just making him feel more awful than he already felt. 

It bad been the third time he threw up on that day. Bruce was right, how on earth had he thought it was a good idea to eat like that? It had felt good then, stuffing his stomach with that delicious pizza, those chips and cookies – Clint had even gone and gotten themselves some ice cream as dessert. Hell, Tony had even been content the next morning – today’s morning – when he placed a hand on his belly and it was still slightly bulgy, smiling at the memory of the feast from the previous night. 

After struggling a little – he couldn’t understand why the more he slept the more he wanted to continue sleeping, it didn’t make sense at all – Tony had gotten up and noticed his body was heavier than usual, but that had been pretty much it. During breakfast – or lunch, he didn’t really know how to call it since it was too late for breakfast and too early for lunch – Tony had barely touched his food, and, despite Steve’s scolding, he had just managed to finish a glass of juice, being still too full. 

It had been until the afternoon, when he had been working on some designs to make Clint’s arrows work like a boomerang, that his stomach started to feel funny, turning into a stomachache not long after. He kept working, trying to ignore it, which turned out to be another bad idea, as he had barely made it to the bathroom to spill the contents of his stomach into the toilet.

Everything had been kept as a secret, though, Tony hadn’t wanted to be scolded for it. Vivid images of Steve and Bruce reprimanding him for his poor judgement appeared in his mind, and he had gotten the feeling even coffee was going to be banned for the following days if they found out. So, Tony had left the bathroom and flopped down onto the couch in his workshop, waiting for the dizziness to stop – vomiting always left him in a world where everything spun around. It never happened. 

Even like that, he decided to stay there until he felt a bit better. Going upstairs was too risky, he might have run into somebody and that somebody might have noticed his ailment. JARVIS’ recommendations of taking something for his stomach upset had been totally ignored. As far as Tony was concerned, a stomachache started to ease once the person got rid of that something that was causing the discomfort by throwing up, and he had just done that. 

Not very accurate information.

Tony found himself hugging the toilet like it was the only thing keeping him alive for a second time, and, to his misfortune, that’s how Bruce had found him when he came down to the workshop looking for him. It hadn’t been a coincidence, Tony was more than sure that JARVIS had told on him, but he hadn’t had the energy to complain about it. 

Clint had gotten scolded as much as Tony once Bruce found out what had led to the current events. After being made to drink a tea that tasted like dirty socks – Tony had refused to answer when Bruce had asked him how he knew the taste of dirty socks – Bruce had practically dragged him to his bedroom, which just made Tony dizzier and, having drinking something a bit before, he ended up in front of the toilet once more. 

“What are you doing?” Tony asked when he felt Bruce undoing his jeans. 

“Diapering you,” Bruce deadpanned, pulling his jeans and boxers down. 

“But it’s still daytime,” Tony complained, though he obeyed when Bruce patted him on the hips to indicate him he wanted him to lift them. 

“I know that, but you’re going to sleep and I don’t want you to have an accident on my bed,” Bruce explained as he slid a diaper under his bottom.

“No, I’m not!” Tony’s nose twitched a bit as the scent of baby powder, being sprinkled across his crotch, freshened the air around him.

“Yes, you are. You need to rest so you get better,” Bruce informed, fastening the diaper closed, “besides, the less you move, the less you upset your stomach.”

“But it’s only 7:30, I’m not even sleepy!” Tony whined, seeing how Bruce took his bottoms completely off and folded them, putting them on the nearest chair. How many of those childish diapers had Clint bought? It was true that he didn’t wear them as often as he did some weeks ago, but they must have run out of them by now. 

Taking advantage that Bruce walked away, Tony rolled over and crawled towards the opposite side. He didn’t want to go to bed that early, he wasn’t a kid to be made go to bed this early. Besides, after the third time he emptied his stomach, he was beginning to feel a bit better, at least the room didn’t move as much as it did a couple of hours ago. There were so many upgrades, projects and designs he needed to catch up with, and now that he was allowed to spend more time in his workshop, he wasn’t going to miss that opportunity. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” Tony heard Bruce ask just before he was about to land a foot on the floor. He looked up and scowled when he saw Bruce standing right in front of him, arms crossed over his chest. How had he gotten there so fast?

“Workshop,” Tony informed, although he didn’t try to move further.

“You’re definitely not.”

“Yes, I am. I’m not gonna stay here if I’m not even sleepy,” Tony grumbled.

“You need to rest,” Bruce repeated, unfolding his arms so he could use his hands to push Tony gently until he was sitting on the bed again. Tony pouted, but he didn’t struggle. “I’m already mad at you, so don’t push it,” he warned.

“What? Why?” Tony’s frown changed into a mix of confused and disappointed expression, “I didn’t do anything wrong,” he reasoned. 

“You weren’t feeling OK, and you preferred to hide it instead of letting any of us know. So, stop pushing your luck and do as you’re told,” Tony’s pout got bigger. Of course, he swore he never pouted.

There had to be something wrong with him, something must have gotten damaged in his brain during that dreadful battle, otherwise, Tony couldn’t understand why everybody seemed to convince him so easily lately. Signing deeply, he sank on the bed, persuaded to stay there so Bruce didn’t get angrier at him – the fact that Tony knew deep down he was right had nothing to do with his decision. 

Bruce sat down behind him, leaning against the headboard. To Tony’s surprise, he found himself being surrounded by Bruce arms and being pulled closer until he was against his chest. Physical contact wasn’t one of Bruce’s strengths, he preferred to keep a considerable distance with everybody, the idea of hulking out by accident always in his mind. Even the times when he had stayed with him until he felt asleep, the furthest he had gotten was running his fingers through his head, petting him, and that was only when Tony was having a hard time to go to sleep. 

Tony turned his head a little, looking at Bruce with questioning eyes, but Bruce was too busy reaching for something on the nightstand. Once his hand grabbed whatever he was looking for, Bruce’s arms wrapped his waist once more.

“Really?” Tony questioned when his eyes met the thing Bruce had in his hands, “Are you really going to read me?”

“Shhh,” Bruce shushed him, opening the book.

“I’m not a kid, you know,” Tony stated, though he snuggled closer to Bruce, his eyes falling on the first page of the book.

It didn’t take long for Tony to get interested in the story, Bruce passionate way of reading made it impossible not to immerse himself in that world of dragons and magic. Without even realizing it, Tony started to doze off when chapter one was close to end, lulled by the vibration caused by Bruce’s vocal cords. One more chapter, and Tony knew he wasn’t going to be able to keep his eyes open for long as soon as Bruce’s hand began caressing his belly, slowly easing away the discomfort still left, relaxing him greatly.

By the third chapter, Tony had gone out like a light.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I felt like writting, so here you have :p
> 
> As usual. See any mistakes, please let me know :)

It was the fourth time Tony rolled over the bed, trying to find the right position so he could go back to sleep. There was none. Perhaps because his discomfort wasn’t caused by the mattress, but by the soggy diaper between his legs. He had doubtlessly made use of it during his sleep, and even if the pee had certainty been warm when it left his body, now it had gone cold who knows how long ago. That was causing some itchiness around the diaper area, which made impossible to take a trip to dreamland one more time.

Getting up and changing the diaper was what Tony should do, the last time he had gotten a rash the itch had been one of the symptoms, and he certainly didn’t want to experience that again. Even though, he couldn’t make himself stand up, feeling too lethargic to remove his body from his cozy bed. Besides, it had been a long time since the last time he had dealt with his own diapers, and, truth be told, Tony had gotten used to being changed. It was easier to just lie down and let somebody else do the work. It also gave him the impression that the team cared about him and he liked that. He enjoyed being taken care of – not that Tony would ever admit that out loud. 

Why hadn’t he slept with somebody? If there had been someone lying next to him, that someone would have probably noticed his discomfort and he wouldn’t be in his current predicament. 

Tony should have said yes when Steve asked him if he wanted to sleep with him. But he had been a little embarrassed, this thing of sharing the bed was becoming a habit now, and an adult shouldn’t need to be comforted before going to sleep. He shouldn’t have to be tucked in bed. Hence, after diapering him and read him a couple of chapters of the book Bruce had started some days ago – something that, apparently, was going to become a habit too, to Tony’s secret pleasure – Steve had left. 

There was the possibility of getting JARVIS to call someone who could go to his aid, though Tony refrained himself from doing so, convinced that he should do that just in case of a real problem, which a soaked diaper wasn’t. 

So, getting up it was. 

Groaning loudly, Tony sat down on the bed, staying there for a few seconds, not wanting to get dizzy for standing up too quickly. He didn’t even know why he had woken up, he had been sleeping through the night just fine, unless there was a nightmare involved, and he was very sure it hadn’t been the case this time. Yawning, he stood up and waddled toward the closet, the diaper had gotten thicker now that it was wet and walking normally wasn’t an option anymore.

After more than five minutes of looking through his stuff, Tony remembered his stash of diapers had run out quite some time ago. As he had been put to bed lately, he hadn’t had to take the trouble to fetch a diaper. 

“You gotta be kidding me,” Tony told himself after he realized he had to go over to Clint’s room in order to get one, which he was feeling too lazy to do. A shame the alternatives were keeping the unpleasantly damp diaper on and run the risk of getting a diaper rash or taking it off and going back to bed like that, running the risk of waking up on soaked sheets. None of the options sounded appealing. 

A second groan escaped from his mouth as he shuffled his way out of the room. At the end, Tony would have to wake someone up, not knowing exactly where Clint kept his stash of diapers. It took him more than usual to reach the elevator, and he was pretty sure he dozed off a little while he was waiting for the doors to open. 

“Hello, my fellow Tony,” Tony heard someone say once he was inside the elevator. Really, drowsiness numbed his brain quite a bit. He looked up and rubbed his eyes, trying to get a not blurry sight of the person in front of him.

“Thor?” Tony asked unnecessarily, the voice should have been enough to let him know it was the Asgardian, “Weren’t you in Asg–?” He had to trail off, a yawn impeding him to finish the question. 

“I was indeed. I just returned,” Thor informed. So that must have been what woke Tony up! Thor’s arrivals where always thunderous. “I was on my way to my bedchambers,” Thor continued, and Tony wondered what had happened to the cheerfulness that always went with his tone of voice. “You look tired, is there something wrong?” he questioned.

“Just sleepy,” Tony answered, yawing again. He couldn’t help to squeal in surprised when Thor scooped him up out of the blue and balanced him on his right hip like if he were a child, wrapping an arm around his waist, a hand palming his padded butt. Tony stiffened immediately, not even Steve had taken the liberty of doing that – when Steve had asked him to leave his workshop and Tony had refused, he had been carried like a potato sack over Steve’s shoulder at the most – and by the fact that he had just been lifted like he weighted practically nothing. 

“It seems that your diaper is in need of a change,” Thor informed, “Would you like me to assist you with that?” he asked, and that’s all Tony needed to relax in his arms. After all, he wouldn’t have to deal with his predicament on his own. It was true Tony didn’t fancy being changed by him, but that was better than having to do it by himself when he was feeling too lazy to even move a finger. 

By the time they made it to Thor’s floor, Tony had wrapped his legs around Thor’s waist as well as his arms around his neck, his head resting on Thor’s shoulder. The thought that it wasn’t very appropriate to let himself being carried like that crossed Tony’s mind, making him feel a bit uneasy, but going back to sleep look as if it was more important matter in that moment, so Tony decided to push that thought to the back of his head. 

As soon as they entered Thor’s room, Thor set him down on the bed and left the room. Tony nodded off a little during that time, and couldn’t help to be startled when he felt his diaper being taken off. It took Thor more time than usual to clean him up and put another diaper on him. Of all the team members, the Asgardian was the one who hardly ever dealt with that task – Tony admitted that, sometimes, he had hidden from him, the possibility of being double-diapered wasn’t something he was very keen on – but this time, Tony didn’t mind that in the slightest, as he was more asleep than awake. 

When Thor was finally over, he took the soiled diaper and went into the bathroom. Tony didn’t know how much time it passed until he felt the mattress sank next to him. Languidly, he rolled over to make space so Thor could lie down comfortably. He knew for a fact that the guy liked to spread across the bed, Jane had complained about it, saying she had to wake him up several times to ask him to move and avoid being pushed out of the bed. Those sleeping habits could have been expected from a God. What Tony didn’t expect was Thor sitting down instead, lifting him and placing him on his lap, his right arm serving as a support behind his back, the hand palming part of his hip and part of his butt – Tony hadn’t been able to understand what was the deal with all the palming yet. He hadn’t dared to admit it was kind of comforting yet, either. 

It was kind of comfortable, Tony melted almost instantly into Thor. Something felt off, though. Even if Thor didn’t have problems with physical contact as Bruce did, he wasn’t the cuddle monster Steve turned out to be either. Thor’s hugs, handshakes, pats and so on were known for being sometimes too brusque, his strength and stamina prevented him from delivering tender caresses. But the way Thor was hugging Tony now was a far cry from being rough, quite the opposite actually, which leaded Tony to the conclusion that there was something wrong. 

“I can’t seem to understand Loki,” Thor said before Tony could ask anything, “It doesn’t seem to matter what I do or say, I can’t get through his head,” he complained, pulling Tony closer to him. 

“What happened?” Tony asked, perfectly knowing now what was off. Whenever there was a problem related to Loki (more like _caused_ by Loki, actually), something that happened very often, Thor’s mood got affected. He became quiet, serious, and the broad smile that always showed on his face was nowhere to be found. Tony couldn’t really understand how Thor hadn’t given up hope of getting his brother back the way he used to be, given the fact that Loki had showed him thousands of times he had no intention of doing so. Perhaps that was how things were supposed to be among family, among brothers, you should always keep faith that things would work out. Tony wouldn’t really know, as his family relationships had been awful. 

Thor explained him how Loki had tried to take over Asgard once more, only to be gotten caught and locked down. Thor hated to see him like that, he hated how he couldn’t make him listen to reason. That’s why he had returned to the Earth, to take some time to cool off and put his thoughts in order. 

Tony kept silence as Thor described him with details what had happened – it seemed he needed to be heard more than be given an advice – feeling a bit worry. Thor’s stories were always told with such enthusiasm that the ones who were listening to him always got the impression of having lived the moment themselves, but this time Thor’s voice was barely a whisper.

Eventually, after deciding that what had happened in Asgard wasn’t a good topic of conversation before going to bed, Thor began to tell him a fairy tale Thor’s mother used to read him and Loki every other night. Tony fell asleep before knowing how the story ended. Why someone talking sent him right to dreamland, was something he couldn’t explain.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was very difficult to get around to writing this week. I need a day off asap u.u
> 
> Anyway, mistakes? let me know :)
> 
> Emjoy!

The movie playing on the screen was very interesting and entertaining. That was the excuse Tony was using to explain why he was still sitting on the sofa of the communal living room that late. Of course, said excuse would be more believable if Tony knew the name of the movie. Or if there actually was a movie playing on the TV. Tony had been switching channels for the last hour and he wasn’t even sure if the pictures showing in front of him belonged to a movie, a TV show, a documentary or something else. 

His eyelids began to feel very heavy around thirty minutes ago, but even like that, he hadn’t been able to make himself leave the sofa and go to his room. Because, again, the movie was worth being seen until the end. 

The fact that Steve, Clint and Natasha were on missions, Thor was back in Asgard and Bruce’s assistance had been required at SHIELD’s labs, had nothing to do with Tony’s apparent inability to go to bed. He was definitely not waiting for them to arrive, as that might not even happen tonight. Why would he? Concern wasn’t something that would keep him awake, not when being an Avenger meant being in constant danger. They all have learned to bear with that uncertainty of not knowing that could happen, ready to act quickly and level-headed if something went wrong. 

So, if that wasn’t keeping Tony up, what was? Because there was no way in hell he wanted to be tucked in bed. OK, maybe he did want that, but staying awake because there was nobody who took him to bed was completely insane. Tony could perfectly go upstairs and lie on his bed on his own. He’s done it before, and he could certainly do it now. Jeez! He had been doing that for the last six days, and he had slept just fine. 

It was true that sleeping with somebody was something Tony came to like. The attention was nice, being taken care of was nicer, and cuddling was the nicest thing to do after a stressing long day. But that didn’t mean he wanted to be put to bed every single night. Sometimes it could be a bit annoying, especially when there were a lot of things he needed to deal with in his workshop, and a sleepless night would help him to make a significant progress. 

Nevertheless, there were some other days where being put to bed was what Tony needed, otherwise he just wouldn’t be able to sleep. The realization of that had occurred recently, for that reason, Tony couldn’t explain why it happened. He didn’t even know if he totally understood it himself. It was like he felt a bit different on those days. Vulnerable, clingy, a little insecure of himself, too overwhelmed for things that were usually insignificant, craving attention. Perhaps he had always felt that way, but he had managed to downgrade those feelings up to now. A shame that, after knowing what it was like to let go for a while and let someone else be in charge, Tony found himself wanting to experience that every now and then. 

Today was one of those days, he just knew it.

“What are you still doing here?” Tony heard Natasha say, making him literally jump on the sofa as he had been too lost in thought. 

“Watchin’ a movie,” Tony lied, after some seconds of trying to disguise his shudder. 

“You’ve got a TV in your room,” Natasha reminded him, walking past him toward the kitchen. 

“This one is bigger,” Tony kept lying, turning around to follow Natasha with his eyes. 

Natasha opened the fridge and grabbed a bottle of water. Then she said, “they’re the same size.” 

“You can’t know that,” Tony argued, still looking at her.

“I’m a spy,” and that was all Natasha needed to say to let Tony realize she surely owned an inventory in her head of everything there was in the Tower. Hell, Natasha would probably know the Tower better than him, especially since Tony tended to spend most of this time just in his workshop and Pepper had been the one in charge of the furnishing. “But let’s pretend I’m buying it, I’m too tired to figure out why you’re lying,” she continued, making her way toward the sofa Tony was slouched on. 

Tony hoped the feeling of relief he experienced for finally having someone there with him hadn’t been that obvious, “where’s Steve and Clint?” he asked, voice faking casualness. 

“Steve’s dealing with the paperwork of the mission,” Natasha informed before taking a sip from the bottle of water. 

“And Clint stayed to help him?” Tony couldn’t hide the surprised in his voice. It was something usual for Steve to deal with paperwork, but Clint was well known for avoiding it whatever it took. 

“Not exactly. Coulson cornered him and scolded him for being almost a year behind with his reports. He literally dragged him to his office and I’m pretty sure he tied him to the chair,” Natasha said, chuckling, “anyway, what’s this movie that’s keeping you awake?” she questioned, and Tony could feel his heartbeats racing as he turned his head to the screen, wishing there were a movie playing. 

“Watch it if you wanna know,” Tony proposed after thanking internally it had been a movie and not something else. An animated movie – why had he stop switching the channels when he saw cartoons? He didn’t know – but a movie at least. 

Surprisingly, Natasha focused her eyes on the screen, so did Tony. Though he never knew what the movie was about, since Natasha’s presence got rid of the anxiety he was experiencing before. Almost immediately, Tony found himself fighting to stay awake, blinking heavily, his eyes remaining shut for a little longer every time. He didn’t realize when he fell asleep, nor how much time had passed when he felt a hand on his shoulder, shaking him awake. 

“Go to bed, big boy,” Natasha ordered him, her hand kept shaking him since his eyes refused to stay open. 

“Watchin’ movie,” Tony mumbled, hoping said movie hadn’t finished yet. 

“You’re not,” Natasha assured, “c’mon, up,” she instructed, grabbing him from his wrist and pulling him, but Tony resisted. If he went to bed, he was going to be left alone, and that was something he couldn’t stand right in that moment. There was no way he was going to sleep with Natasha either, besides the fact Tony didn’t want that, Natasha would never allow it. So, the only option left was staying in the living room with her. 

“Dun wanna,” Tony whined, whirling his arm to get rid of Natasha’s grip. “wanna watch movie,” he slurred, sinking further into the sofa. 

Natasha continued trying to get him off the couch, unsuccessfully. She sighed deeply before saying, “OK, but when it finishes, you’re going to bed.” 

“Yes,” Tony promised, already thinking a way to stay there as much as possible. Maybe until Steve arrived. 

“Are you even wearing a diaper? You don’t want to have an accident on this couch. Clint already bitch too much about the other one you’ve got to have replaced because of the same reason,” Natasha asked, already pulling up his t-shirt to check beneath his waistband, “you’re not,” she informed. 

“Dun need,” Tony assured, rubbing his eyes lazily, trying to keep his tiredness at bay. 

“So you wake up with wet pants and you make a fuss for everything next day? I don’t think so, big boy, you’re putting a diaper on,” Natasha stated, turning around and disappearing through the door. 

Tony groaned. One day. One day he had felt too lazy to diaper himself before going to bed. Taking into account that he had woken up dry for three days in a row, Tony thought his incontinence problem was finally gone, and protection wouldn’t be needed anymore. He had been wrong. And, according to everyone, he had been grumpy the next day. They hadn’t been right, of course, anyone would have thrown a fit if a super soldier had told them for the umpteenth time that the punching bag needed replacing. A punching bag that had been improved just a couple of days before.

By the time Natasha was back, Tony had gone back to sleep again. He had to be wake for a second time. With slow movements, he followed Natasha’s instructions to take his bottoms off and lift his hips so she could proceed to diaper him, his brain barely registering the process. 

“I don’t even know why you want to watch that movie, it’s extremely boring,” Natasha confessed while she fastened the diaper together. 

For a moment Tony got the feeling that that comment meant Natasha would leave the room as soon as she was done. Opening one eye, he took a peek of his surroundings to see what Natasha was doing. If she left, his intention of staying there was senseless, as his anxiety would return if he was left alone once more. 

After folding his clothes, Natasha walked outside the room again. Suppressing a whine, Tony propped himself up a little on his left elbow so he could see if Natasha was really gone, his mind already thinking a way to make her go back to the couch with him. He couldn’t prevent himself for sighing a bit when he saw her stepping out of the elevator and walking toward him after some minutes.

“I don’t understand why Clint keeps buying these diapers,” Natasha complained, leaning so she could place a blanket over him to cover the lower part of his body, “you can’t even wear pants on them.”

Tony hold his breath until he felt Natasha dropping on the sofa next to him. To his astonishment, she moved closer and slid his hands under his head, lifting it enough so she could move even closer and let her leg work as a pillow. 

“Remember, just until the movie finishes, then, you’re going to bed,” she warned again, but Tony already was losing himself into unconsciousness as soon as Natasha’s fingers began to combed his hair lazily. 

When Steve made it home, Tony was so deeply asleep that he didn’t even notice when the former scooped him up and took him to bed with him.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, with this chapter I conclude this story. I'm planning on continuing the series, though. 
> 
> Thank you so much for your comments and kudos, they always make my day :D.
> 
> Hopefully you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it :)
> 
> As usual, (and I'm afraid I'm starting to sound like a broken record) if you spot any mistakes, please let me know.

“WHAT ON EARTH HAPPENED IN HERE?!” Phil demanded the moment his right foot stepped into Clint’s bedroom, making Tony shudder in surprise and lose balance. The chair he had been standing on swung a little, only steadying when Tony leaned to hold onto its back. 

“You almost made me fall!” Tony accused once he was sure there was no risk of falling down. “You don’t go into people’s rooms and shout all of a sudden!” he reprimanded, climbing down the chair.

“This is not even your room!” Phil pointed out.

“Oh, I–,” Tony trailed off, not knowing what to say. 

Folding his arms across his chest, Phil waited Tony to say something. “Care to elaborate?” he pressured after seeing that Tony had no intention of giving an explanation. 

“About what?” Tony asked, the expression of his face trying to show casualness, unsuccessfully. 

“This!” Phil spread his arms and spun a bit to show he meant all the room. 

Tony turned his head around to take a look of his surroundings, understanding why Phil’s sudden outburst. The room was a mess. All the drawers of the dressers and nightstands were open and their contents were scattered everywhere. The mattress had been turned over and left on the floor instead of the bedframe. All the furniture, light enough to be moved, had been pushed from the walls. And everything that had been inside the closet, was now piled around Tony and the chair he had been standing on. Yes, now Tony realized what Phil meant. 

“So?”

“It has always been like this?” Tony implied, smiling nervously, “Clint’s not the most organized person in here, you know.”

“You and I both know you are the responsible for this mess, so spit it out,” Phil ordered, crossing his arms once more.

“I saw a rat and I wanted to kill it?” Again, Tony suggested, shivering just by the thought of it. He would get JARVIS to burn the whole Tower down it there was any kind of infestation. 

“Tony!” Phil warned, Tony could tell by the look on his face he wasn’t going to take any more lies.

“I was looking for something,” Tony mumbled, looking away and scratching his upper arm. 

And with something, Tony had meant diapers. 

Ever since he had heard Natasha wondering out loud why Clint kept buying those childish diapers, Tony had wanted to find out if that had been true. And when Tony got an idea in his head, he wasn’t able to get rid of it until he figured out or did whatever the idea was. If Tony wasn’t mistaken, Clint had promised not to get more of those diapers once they ran out. Yet, after using them for quite a while, he didn’t seem to use them up. Perhaps Clint had bought a lifetime supply. 

Tony would have kept believing that was the reason, if it hadn’t been for the fact that, some days ago, Bruce had put him on a teddy bear printed design diaper, different from the spaceships and aliens printed design ones he had been using up until then. So that meant Clint continued purchasing them, even when he had said he wouldn’t! 

However, Tony hadn’t gotten any straight answer when he asked Clint about it. He just put him off with lies about the package bought containing different designs of diapers or, sometimes, he ended up changing the topic. Once, Clint has tickled Tony until he forgot what they were talking about. 

Truth be told, Tony didn’t want to know because he didn’t like wearing those diapers. Actually, he didn’t mind using them, there was a deep part of him – so deep that nobody would ever find out about it – that didn’t disagree with Clint when this one said they were cute. It was just a matter of knowing. Again, once an idea got stuck in his mind, it stayed there. His curiosity was hard to pleased.

That explained why he had gone to Clint’s bedroom and had look for them among his things. 

“Looking for what?” Phil questioned, his right foot moving as a sign of impatience. 

“None of your business,” Tony argued, folding his arms and glaring to look more determined and menacing, though wearing just a t-shirt and a diaper made it look more like sulking. 

“It is, actually. This is not your room,” Phil noted, staring.

“Neither is yours,” Tony reminded him, “What the hell are you doing here anyway?” he asked, suddenly remembering Phil didn’t live in the Tower, even if the seemed to spend too much time hanging out there.

“Don’t ask questions whose answers you already know,” Phil hinted. Of course Tony knew. Damn Steve and his freaking obsession of getting Phil to keep an eye on him whenever he was going to be alone. He didn’t need a damn babysitter, for fuck’s sake! “So, stop changing the topic and tell me what you were looking for.” Phil asked again.

Looking at him resentfully – Phil shouldn’t agree to this nonsense idea of looking after him – Tony demanded, “why do you want to know?”

“Well, first, it would explain why you’re here, awake,” Phil answered, surprising Tony with the disapproval in his voice, “Steve assured me he left you sleeping like a baby after putting you to bed,” he informed, and Tony didn’t like the words he had chosen, “and yet, I find you here, looking through Clint’s stuff for who knows what, when you had stayed here because you were too tired to go out,” Phil scolded, making impossible to Tony to hold a stare, “Unless you’d stayed here because of _this_ ,” he implied, realization hitting him, looking questionably at Tony. 

Tony had. 

Steve, Clint and Bruce had gone to the movies. It wasn’t something they did very often, most of the time they preferred to stay in the Tower, but after some days of no battles or missions, they had been rather bored. Even Natasha had agreed to meet them there, saying she needed to keep an eye on Clint, otherwise he would be kicked out again for throwing popcorns at the people sitting in front of him. Tony had been invited too, of course, though he declined the invitation, excusing himself by saying he was too exhausted to go out and he preferred to stay behind to have an early night. 

With early night he had meant sneaking into Clint’s room and eliminate his doubts once and for all. 

“Of course not!” Tony denied, lying, “I was tired.”

“Yes, I can tell that,” Phil said sarcastically, “This is not a mess you do in five minutes, you’ve been here for at least an hour. So, tell me what it is you’re looking for so I can give it to you and you can go back to bed,” he ordered. Tony just stared at him, saying nothing. 

After evading Phil’s questions and participating in a staring contest which no one won, Phil must have realized Tony had no intention to answer. What was Tony supposed to say? That he was looking for some diapers Clint had bought? Tony got the feeling it sounded stupid, especially since the objective wasn’t anything like getting rid of them because he hated them, rather than just to know how many diapers were left. Yes, staying just because of that didn’t seem very clever. 

Sighing deeply and failing to hide his annoyance, Phil massaged his temples and walked forward a couple of meters past Tony, squatting down. Curious, Tony turned around and observed how Phil looked inside some boxes that were scattered around them, pushing them aside when he didn’t seem to find what he wanted. As soon as Phil opened the fifth box, Tony could hear a sigh of relief, and his curiosity was soon satisfied when the former stood up to face him, pressing what he had taken from the box against his chest: the stuffed animal Clint had given him. A Snorlax, Tony found out its name later.

With hesitation, Tony grabbed it. The three times he had slept with Clint, he had made sure the Snorlax was within reach. Once, Tony had even woken up and found himself hugging it after a night spent with Steve. He should have gotten mad at Clint for buying him such a childish thing, but again, deep down, Tony had liked it. It was so soft, so huggable, and it provided a kind of comfort that made it impossible for him to dislike it. 

“This was what you were looking for, wasn’t it?” Phil asked him when he saw the confused expression on his face. “You should’ve asked for it before Clint left instead of making this mess, now you’ll wake up early tomorrow to clean up,” he informed, grabbing the hand Tony wasn’t using to hold his plushy and starting to walk towards the door. 

For a millisecond, Tony resisted when Phil pulled him, feeling insulted. Did Phil really think he had made all that mess just because he wanted a stuffed animal? What the hell was wrong with everyone? Tony was more than sure they treated him like a kid sometimes, and he certainly wasn’t one. But then Phil commented something about finishing reading the book Bruce had started reading him not long ago, and that’s all Tony needed to let himself be led outside Clint’s room. There were just three chapters left and he was eager to know the ending.

Perhaps Tony should voice his displeasure about his teammates behavior towards him, but how could he voice something non-existent?


End file.
